What I Did for my Summer Holiday
by Mellon Collie
Summary: Harry's just arrived back from Hogwarts for his summer holiday and finds out a school mate of Dudley's has to stay at the house. But as he gets to know this new boy, he risks revealing things that others have kept hidden for thousands of years...


**A.N**:Hidey Ho and Merry Christmas!! Oops, sorry, HAPPY Christmas. Erm...I've kinda gotten bored with "Memories Unwind" so I thought I'd plop this little kid of a fan fiction. It's Harry's summer holiday and there's someone new! But I promise you, on Cedric Diggory's grave, that this will NOT be a Gary Stu. If you don't know what that means, don't worry, you'll be fine. XD Go see Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, it is wonderful! You think Daniel Radcliffe is hot? He doesn't hold a candle to Orlando. Rawr. 

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    Harry Potter was beginning to notice that most things pivotal in his life began with paper. He'd received a couple hundred Hogwarts acceptance letters, thus beginning his life as a wizard; he'd been almost killed by a wizard living in a paper diary; the Marauder's Map had allowed Lupin to come to the Whomping Willow in his third year, thus allowing him to hear how his parents had really been betrayed; and most recently a flaming Goblet ejected a scrap of paper with his name on it. 

    So, understandably, when a letter arrived at the number 4 Privet Drive barely a week after Harry had gotten off the Hogwarts Express and Vernon Dursley read and exclaimed, "Petunia, it's from Jim Miller! He's going on holiday and needs someone to watch his boy!" Harry felt a growing sense of foreboding in his stomach. 

    Petunia Dursley stepped into the front hall, where Uncle Vernon read the letter and Harry was scrubbing at the tiles beneath their feet. She curled her lip. "Surely he doesn't expect us to." 

    "Dudders must know him. He's his age and goes to Smelting." 

    'Wonderful,' Harry thought grimly as he dunked the cloth into the murky water and set to work on a particularly tough dried bit of mud Dudley had created, 'two Dudleys all for me.' 

    Dudley came waddling into the hall, purposely trotting on Harry's hand. This was no small thing for Dudley was no small thing. Harry snatched his hand away as he felt some skin tear and swallowed a curse. The soap he was using stung in the wound and he paused to wipe his hand on his shirt before inspecting the wound. 

    Because of his concern of being fingerless for the rest of his life, Harry only caught the last of Uncle Vernon's statement to Dudley. 

    "...and they wonder if he can stay here for a while." 

    "Not him!" Dudley whined, looking between his mother and father. "He's really weird. I don't like him." 

    "Now, dear," Aunt Petunia said, pinching Dudley's chubby cheek. Dudley's diet had lost him some weight, but he could still easily squash Harry, who was losing weight at a much faster rate. 

    Every since he'd gotten home, Harry had trouble sleeping and had no appetite. It didn't help that Aunt Petunia kept him very busy with chores. He was unhealthy, but he was nearing it, and was literally forcing himself to go downstairs and eat in the middle of the night. The only proper nourishment he got was the constant letters between he, Ron, and Hermione. Ron's had lessened, for there had been a death in the family and the Weasleys had to rush off to France for the funeral and ensuing family reunion. 

    "Jim owns a building company," Uncle Vernon was saying to Dudley, "and he says here that we're the only family not going on holiday that he would trust his boy with. If we make a good impression on the boy, then maybe Jim would increase his orders knowing we're a good family business." He glanced down at Harry, who was holding his hand and listening, and sneered. "Get to washing boy." Harry rolled his eyes and went back work, careful not to get too much soap into his cut until he could get a bandage for it. 

    "Vernon," Aunt Petunia said warily, glancing at Harry, "do you think it wise to have company here? Every other time we've had company, its been a disaster." 

    "This is very important Petunia," replied Uncle Vernon, though he also looked nervous, "and if the boy keeps his mouth shut, and is kept busy, there is no need for him to say a word to this..." he glanced the letter, "Brady boy." 

    "He tells everyone to call him Alex," Dudley muttered sullenly, "because his middle name is Alexander." 

    "And Alex we shall call him!" 

    "Where will he stay?" Aunt Petunia asked. "The guest room is being renovated." 

    "Harry can move back to his cupboard," Uncle Vernon replied, smirking evilly. Harry sat up in indignation. 

    "Back in there?" Harry asked. "Why can't HE sleep in there?" 

    Uncle Vernon leered at him. "You'll go back in there, and you'll like it. Clean up this mess." 

    The Dursleys watched as Harry dried the hallway and walked out to empty the bucket of soapy, dirty water and tend to his hand. 

    It had been his right hand-his wand hand-that Dudley had so kindly plodded on, so Harry clumsily wrapped bandages around the cut with his left hand. He flex his fingers. 

    "This will be wonderful to hold a quill with," Harry said out loud then turned and jumped. Uncle Vernon was standing in the bathroom doorway. 

    He stepped forward, holding out a beefy finger and poking Harry in the chest. "You listen to me, boy. You'd better be on your best behavior when this Alex comes. You'll clear all your things out of that room and put them in your cupboard with you and you best not take them out while he's here." 

    "Of course I won't. But my trunk won't fit in there if I'm in there too." 

    "Then take the things out, put them on the shelves and put the trunk in the attic! So Alex can never open it and see your...things..." 

    "Don't worry," Harry muttered. "My 'things' will be well hidden out of sight." 

    "I don't like your tone," Uncle Vernon said, and left. Harry rolled his eyes and went to his room. He pried up the loose floor board and shoveled them into a pillowcase, then scribbled a quick note to Hermione. 

    "Hermione," he wrote, "Can't keep Hedwig here. Long story. Write me back, but make sure Hedwig knows to leave them in the bushes outside at night. Muggle coming to say with us. Promise I won't make him blow up. Love, Harry." 

    He attached it to Hedwig's leg and petting her affectionately. "You understand, right, Hedwig?" he asked. Hedwig cocked her head to the side, gave him a friendly nip on the ear and flew out the window. Hermione would tell Ron next time she spoke to him. 

    He carried the pillow case of his possessions to his new sleeping quarters and dragged the trunk into the tiny crawlspace that barely counted as an attic. Now moved, he crouched in the hallway as he shoved his belongings into every available space. His clothes had to be folded and rolled into tiny little balls and shoved into corners. He looked around, feeling miserable, thankful for the first time in his life that he was short. 

    He crawled in, closed the door, and laid down. Not horrible, but he had forgotten how dank and wretched the little room. There was not a fond memory to be had in the place that had served as his room since he was deemed old enough to get in and out of bed on his own. 

    All he could do was hope that Ron would come home soon so he could go live with the Weasleys. 

    The week before Alex arrived was hectic. The room that had once been Harry's was polished and scrubbed, the bedding replaced, the holes in the wall outside where there had once been bars filled in. Dudley was told he had to keep his resentment at having a kid he didn't like staying at his house to himself. Harry was told to keep far, far away and that if the boy even began to suspect anything of Harry's 'abnormality' he would be flayed within an inch of his life. To secure that contact between Harry and Alex would be few and far between, Harry was again instructed to pretend he was from St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminally Insane Boys. 

    For his part, Harry's interest was piqued at what the boy would be like. Anyone that isn't part of Dudley's crowd had to have some redeeming qualities about him, but Harry had nightmares that 'Alex' was actually the name Draco Malfoy used when he went around and stayed at Muggle houses. Ridiculous as the nightmares were, Harry genuinely considered barring himself in his cupboard and only coming out at night to grab food. 

    The day when Alex would arrive came, and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia actually bought Harry normal fitting Muggle clothes (though they kept the tags on so they could return them the next day) and demanded he not look like a pauper when they greeted the Millers. The door bell rang and Uncle Vernon stood, smoothed his shirt down over his large stomach and went to answer the door. 

    Immediately, Harry saw why Draco wouldn't like Alex Miller. He was about as small as Harry, with the same color hair except spiked, and had on baggy pants and a shirt with the name of a band Harry didn't recognize. Harry almost laughed at the horrified look on Aunt Petunia's face. The boy looked fine to Harry, but anything short of the ridiculous clothes Aunt Petunia packed Dudley into were horrific. 

    Alex shook hands with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and Jim Miller shook Uncle Vernon's hand. "Thanks so much for taking Brady-" 

    "Alex," Alex said sharply. Jim gave him an eye. 

    "Thank you for taking Alex for such a long time. We're very grateful. Holly's in the car. She twisted her ankle yesterday so she's taking it easy for a bit." He noticed Harry and raised an eyebrow at him "Vernon! You didn't tell me you had two sons!" 

    Aunt Petunia looked downright revolted at the insinuation that she gave birth to Harry. "Oh, no, this is my sister's son." 

    "He staying with you this summer as well?" 

    "No," Harry said. "My parents are unable to care for me at this time." His prim voice caught Alex's attention, which had been on trying not to laugh at Dudley's look of extreme displeasure. Jim Miller looked uncomfortable, and Uncle Vernon elbowed Harry. 

    "Help Alex with his things," Uncle Vernon said through clenched teeth. Harry nodded stiffly and Alex walked out the door to the car, and they both pulled the suitcases out of the trunk. 

    "You don't look like any of them," Alex commented, jerking his head at the house. 

    "I take after my dad," replied Harry shortly, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he went to readjust the suitcases in his hand. 

    "What's that on your forehead?" asked Alex. Harry blinked. It had been awhile since someone had even mentioned his scar. 

    "It's a scar from when I was a kid." 

    "Did you parents give it to you?" 

    "What?" Harry exclaimed. 

    "You said they're 'unable to care for you at this time,'" Alex said matter-of-factly. "Did they beat you?" 

    "No," Harry said, shocked. "They're dead." 

    Alex grimace and said, "Sorry. I didn't know." 

    "How would you?" Harry said, carrying the suitcases inside. Alex was quiet as Harry led him to the room and deposited the suitcases by the bed. "This is your room. The bathroom is down the hall. Dudley is the door next over. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are across the hall. The room across the hall all the way at the end is a mess; they're renovating." 

    "Then where are you sleeping?" Alex asked. 

    "Under the stairs." Harry didn't allow Alex to respond, though he caught the shocked look. Harry was more concerned with the tag from his pants that was sticking into his back every time he walked and wanted to go to his cupboard where he could sit and not worry about it. Alex's father called and Harry nodded at the door. "You should go say bye." Alex gave him a strange look, but went downstairs and Harry followed. Uncle Vernon gave Harry a suspicious look, then shook Jim Miller's hand again and said goodbye. Alex hugged his father, waved to his mother, then stepped back to allow the door to close. 

    "Welcome to our home," Aunt Petunia said warmly. "May I get you something? Tea, perhaps?" 

    "Tea is fine," Alex said. The Dursley's all smiled, comforted the know the boy had some manners, and tottled off to the kitchen. Harry, relieved that he could now go change into some of his baggy, more comfortable clothes started to walk to his cupboard, but Alex grabbed his arm. 

    "Aren't you going to get some tea?" he asked. Harry shook his head, smiling bleakly. 

    "I don't drink tea with the Dursleys." 

    "You were just joking about sleeping under the stairs, right? Just to get me back about the parent thing, right?" 

    "Why would I do that?" 

    "You're related to Dudley Dursley. You may have his same twisted sense of humor." 

    "I may have a twisted sense of humor, and I may be related to him, but we're polar opposites. I'm going to change. Go get tea. They'll be mad if they see you talking to me." 

    Harry shook himself free of Alex's grasp and went to his cupboard, and didn't notice Alex watch him crawl inside. 

    He did realize that his cryptic manner had probably only made Alex dangerously intrigued about Harry's position in this household and had probably made things worse than normal for himself. 

    'Oh well,' he thought despairingly as he pulled on his normal, Dudley sized jeans and cinched them with his belt, inadvertently smacking his head on the low sloped ceiling, 'what's new?' 


End file.
